


The Curse

by doodlerTM



Category: Hustle Cat (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26262640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlerTM/pseuds/doodlerTM
Summary: The untold story of how Graves got cursed by Nacht.
Relationships: Graves/Nacht
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Curse

Graves should have known. The first time he'd brought home Nacht, his mother had taken him aside. “I have a bad feeling about this boy,” she said, adding his given name for emphasis. 

But Graves had pushed her away. It was the first time he'd ever trusted anyone so deeply. He enjoyed it – enjoyed the way Nacht took care of him, stood up for him. Stood with him. 

By the time he realized he'd made a mistake, it was too late.

The years passed. The band broke up, and Nacht began to show his true colors. Standing with Graves suddenly turned into manipulation, a desperate need to be needed. Graves moved out, they broke up and got together again. Nacht would always convince Graves to get back with him, but then he would cross another line and they would break up again.

It grew tiring, and it made Graves feel old. 

One night, Nacht took Graves out to dinner – somewhere nice. Graves had had a long day and his thoughts were pre-occupied, so he was taken aback when Nacht pulled out a ring.

“Please,” he almost begged. “I promise, it'll be different. I need ya, Graves.”

“No,” Graves said, surprising himself. 

“Whaddya mean, no?”

Graves stood up. “No,” he said again, getting used to the sound of the word in his own voice. “It won't be different, Nacht. It is never different.” He clenched the fork from dinner in his hand – it curled in on itself under his touch. 

“I need you,” Nacht repeated, his voice sounding hollow.

“I'm sorry,” Graves said, and left.

\--- 

Weeks passed. Not a peep from Nacht. Graves kept his number in his phone, for nothing but to torture himself with, he supposed. He barely slept, and Reese noticed, of course. Ever the master of words, Graves said enough to reassure his apprentice, but not enough to let him know the real truth. 

Then one night he heard a key turn in his apartment door. 

Of course. How could have he forgotten? 

He had given Nacht a key. 

Graves sat silent on his couch as Nacht entered, but his ex grabbed his wrist, hard, and brought him out to the kitchen. “Turn the light on, would ya?”

Graves had no idea what he was doing, and fearfully obliged. 

He turned to see Nacht drawing a symbol on the floor in chalk.

A triangle, with a line horizontally through it just above the center. 

Oh no.

Graves thought that Nacht had no power left over him, but that wasn't true. They'd gotten tattoos together, years before. Nacht had gotten the alchemical sigil for fire, an upright triangle. And Graves had gotten the sigil for air. 

Which Nacht was now finishing off on the floor.

The sigil on the floor glowed, and the tattoo on the back of Graves' neck burned. 

“No,” Graves said. He dropped to the floor, looking up at his ex. “No, what are you doing?”

Nacht's wicked grin stared him down. “I've been thinking, Graves. You've made me feel oh so alone. So I figured, why not return the favor?”

He pressed his hand on the sigil on the ground. Rust spread out on the floor and Graves screamed out as pain shot through his tattoo.

“No more words for you,” he snarled. “No more magic for you. No more nothin' for you.”

Graves felt the magic within him crack, as if being smashed with a baseball bat. He gasped for air as the curse on his words hit him. All the while, his tattoo ached with the brunt of the curses.

Helpless, he watched Nacht start to walk away. “By the way,” Nacht added, “I know ya have an apprentice. Little Reesie. I'll make sure he gets it too. I'll find him.”

“Why?” Graves said. “He's innocent!”

“Yeah,” Nacht said, leaning on his bat in the doorway. “Sure he is, but you as hell ain't.” He slammed his door shut behind him. 

Graves started to sob uncontrollably. Nacht had taken everything from him. “I have nothing left,” he mumbled out loud.

 _That's not true,_ a voice said suddenly in his head. He looked up to see Countess Dracula nuzzling against his knees. _He can't take your gift with cats. He can't take your dreams._

Graves looked down at his shaking hands. He blinked away tears. Dreams... his dreams...He stood up.

“Yes,” Graves said as firmly as he could muster. “He can't take everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then he decided to start the cat cafe, and the rest, they say, is history.


End file.
